Can't live with you, can't live without you
by summerjun
Summary: I suck at summaries - but ot's good, so read it, please!


**Hey, there! So, here right now, it's 7am on Valentine's Day, and I'm about to go, but I thought I should definitely upload this on Valentine's Day. It's cheesy as, but it goes down well with a bit of love for Usui...unrequites (sob...) My chocolates would be better than hers...**

**Enjoy - R&R!!**

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She felt sick to the stomach every time she thought of him. Not in her usual, boys-are-gross-and-make-me-vom way, but in the just-let-me-lie-here-in-the-foetal-position-as-i-sob-uncontrollably-while-listening-to-this-taylor-swift-song way.

Because, while she was irritated by his constant tailing and invasion of her life, she was also… well, flattered. But she knew that as far as girls went, she wasn't even sure she qualified. And, in her heart of hearts, she thus knew that Usui was toying with her, simply because she didn't fawn over him immediately.

While she pushed the theory that there was something fundamentally wrong with her, she stared out the window. In a half-hour she would have to be at work, on the floor: she was cutting it fine, but she couldn't bring herself to get up from that desk.

She hadn't seen him in 6 days. In the rational half of her brain (it had become very subdued lately) she knew that 6 days was nothing- she often went without seeing her family for much longer than that. This, however, was different. It wasn't that he'd been away, or sick, or off on one of his many mysterious absences.

He'd simply stopped coming.

She saw him from a distance; the back of a light-brown head, or someone calling his name. She felt… abandoned – incredibly alone and lost.

The clock struck the half hour. Cursing inwardly, she swept all the papers on the desk into something resembling a pile, and ran from the room. At that moment, a tall, typically arrogant figure appeared at the window, looking at the empty table with something like regret. He followed Misaki, by now sprinting for the train, towards the station.

She was late to work. Having nearly missed her stop entirely, Usui had watched on, in half-amusement, half-concern, as she ran and jumped over the grandpa sitting beside the door.

As she walked onto the floor, her eyes swept the tables, looking, as always, for that familiar messy hair. And, for the seventh day in a row, he wasn't there. She blushed into herself, hanging her head to hide her irritation with herself.

Like an automaton, she did her shift, changed, waved goodbye and went out by the back door, not even expecting him to be there. _I give up. _She looked at her watch. 9.20pm. Studying seemed very unappealing at that moment. She walked through the park and seeing the swings empty, went and sat down, swinging aimlessly.

Although she hadn't meant them to, after a couple of minutes, tears started welling up, spilling up over her cheeks as she thought about Usui. She rested her head against the chain, her shoulders heaving as she tried to stop crying.

The man in question sat on the other side of the park, behind a tree, from where he could hear Misaki's quiet sniffs. He turned quickly, only to see her slight frame racked with grief. Obviously unaware that he was the subject of it, he struggled inwardly, even getting half-up before resolving to stay where he was.

Four days later, Misaki had kind of given up. She tried her best not to think about him, although the feeling of his lips on hers still lasted whenever she thought about him. Blaming stress, hormones, hunger, _whatever,_ she still cried on the way home, and sat on the swing as the one place she didn't have to be serious or sensible all the time.

In school, her absent-mindedness had disappeared; she had returned to the demon president, working just as hard, just as motivated to succeed.

In fact, had Usui not kept seeing her in the park every night, crying, he would have thought that the Pres was fine: as it was, he had finally understood the reason for her nightly visit to the swings. And with every single heave of her body, he felt a stab somewhere in his chest. He didn't like to pinpoint consciously the exact point.

On this one day, Usui had been battling with himself as to whether he should continue checking up on her. It might seem like stalking, but he couldn't help himself. That sounded very much like stalking, so he removed the whole idea from his head.

He had, in fact, managed to go home after school, managing to be strong enough to not hang around outside as she worked alone in the office and then tail her, at a distance of course, to Café Latte.

He no longer lived in his flat, but in a house owned by his extended family. They disapproved, of course, of Seika High and any relationships he had therein. This was why he had had to end contact with Misaki – they hadn't done anything so ludicrous as to threaten her family, but rather her grades. Their potential to sabotage her education – the thing for which she had worked the most – had stopped Usui in his rebellious tracks.

Nevertheless, by 7.30pm, he was restless in this enormous house, rattling around on his own. Not planning to go to her work, _not at all_, he reminded himself, he ended up there anyway. Standing at the back door, he listened, thinking the Café strangely quiet. Going around to the front, he found the lights off and the shutter down – it had closed early for some reason.

He returned to the side door, trying the handle to see everyone had gone, and found it open. He swung it open, debating inwardly the likelihood of Misaki being the one locking up. Considering it highly improbable, he headed in, the door crashing behind him. It was dark inside, and he was wondering if maybe one of the maids were in trouble (he started shaking with anger when he considered the victim to be Misaki). As he walked into the staffroom, he called out "hello?" He heard nothing back, except a muffled sound, making him worry about their safety more.

Walking further into the staffroom, down to where the lockers were, he rounded the corner, only to find Misaki crying, hunched on the floor, sobbing into a t-shirt she had obviously been in the process of putting on, as her dress was off.

Strangely, Usui didn't feel unnatural or awkward as he knelt beside Misaki, despite the fact that he had neither seen her in such a state of undress, nor seen her crying. He put his hand on her head, pulling her against his chest, hugging her tightly.

Although Usui knew that it was he, just him, who had made her feel like this, he couldn't help himself from reversing the two weeks of inward struggle and sadness which had made him ignore Misaki. Hugging her tightly, he kissed the top of her head, at which she stopped crying, and seemed, for the first time to actually realise he was there.

"Usui? What ar- What are you d- What?" He looked at her, feeling finally calm as he held her tightly. She actually looked angry with him, through the confusion, pain and tears. He felt yet more at home.

"I'm sorry Misaki. To be honest, there's nothing more I can say, except that… well, a lot of events conspired against us. My family… they're not keen on Seika, or anyone in it, and well, you're a bit of a commoner compared to me…" He smirked right in her face, as she punched him in the gut. "Idiot Usui! Do you know how worried I've been?"

Usui recovered, looking up at her from underneath his hair. "Just worried, Pres?" She flushed, looking away. "Y- Yeah. Who'd care about you?" He turned her face towards his, looking straight in her eyes as he asked again, "Really, Pres. Just worried?" His eyes turned her already fragile brain into mush, and she leant in, hovering for a second with her lips an inch from his until she felt his breath on her mouth, when she couldn't hold back, and leant in- relief, tiredness and sheer happiness making them both too eager, as Usui held her waist, her bare torso against his shirt.

They didn't stop until they were both dishevelled, breathing heavily as Misaki lay up against Usui, who looked down on the Pres's still red eyes, and kissed them as he muttered "Misa-chan" softly. It was only a couple minutes before she ruined it, in typical Misaki fashion, by sitting up abruptly and saying "But, aren't your family going to find out?" As she sat beside Usui, and he looked at her body rather than her face, she realized she still had no shirt on. Rummaging around, she found it, half-under Usui. "Come on, idiot, give me my shirt!" While trying to hide from him what she was desperately endeavouring to cover, he smirked, lying down and pulling her with him.

"There. Now I can't see. K?" He could feel the blush on her face against his arm, and smiled. "Who cares about my family. I can't give you up, Misa-chan. I thought I could, but I was super wrong." Now it was her turn to smile. She turned her face in against his chest, so as to hide the glee on her face.

"However, I can't, in all good conscience, sabotage your study like that. We could try to… keep it a secret?" She was still for a moment before mumbling into his shirt, "That'd be good." He grabbed her, and kissed her forehead. "You're so cute, Ayuzawa."

They eventually left the café, holding hands, as if they couldn't possibly be apart any more. As they walked towards Misaki's house, they stopped in the park, where she instinctively sat on a swing. "You've been spending a lot of time here, ne Misa-chan?" She smiled slightly, before turning to Usui. "Wait, what? Have you been creepily stalking me you pervert?!" He looked away, before turning back, smirking. "Why? Do you mind?"

A week and a half had passed, and they had still remained undiscovered, or at least they assumed so. To be perfectly honest, although she would never admit it (after that one fortnight of weakness, she had returned to her Baka-Usui stage) she was kind of enjoying it. Usui, who smiled every time she had a pervertedspacemonster rant, knew this.

Misaki's next weekend was her first day off on a Sunday in a while. Reluctant to drop hints, Manager had to be the one to inform Usui of this, when he came to meet Misaki at the end of work.

"She would never tell you herself, but I know she needs to relax. If you could…" she raised her eyebrows speculatively, as if searching for confirmation of what she had long suspected.

Usui simply nodded. "OK, Manager." As she floated off on a happy cloud of fantasy, Usui started wondering about what two people who weren't meant to be seen together could do on a sunny Sunday in May. Going home at night had been fine- it was dark; except from very close proximity, they were indistinguishable.

But a Sunday. That was going to take some figuring…

The girl he was thinking about at that very moment turned up; she took him by surprise. Turning to face her, he suddenly had a very dubious plan which he was, however, compelled to blurt out.

"Pres, you have a day off on Sunday, right?" She looked at him, shocked. "How'd you know that?" He tapped his head, mouthing _I know everything._ "No, but seriously… do you want to come over to mine on Sunday?" He said this as they were walking home, and it made Misaki freeze in her tracks.

Usui, expecting a world of pain, turned to face her, tentatively. "Misa, I was jok-" "OK. But you know I'm a rubbish cook." Not understanding the relevancy of these two statements, Usui claimed to be the one cooking.

Misaki blushed deep red as she looked down, and Usui heard something mumbled from which he made out "chocolates… he doesn't want my cook…" _OK, I knew girls were weird, but I thought this one was different. Apparently not-she's crazy like the rest of them. _

"Misa…" Then he worked it out. Valentine's. He was shocked she had agreed to come to his on Valentine's – shocked and thrilled. Turning towards her, he placed his hands on her waist, and drew her in. "But you better make me chocolate, right? I don't want none of that bought stuff…"

Misaki looked a tiny bit shellshocked – she was obviously taken back by her own audacity to come to his house, complain about chocolate and then get hugged in public. She might as well take it one step further.

"I'll make chocolates, so long as you…" Looking embarrassed, Usui leant in, putting his ear next to her mouth, where she whispered, making both of them blush a little.

_Thank you family – it would appear you've only made us closer!_ Putting both his hands on the side of her face, he kissed her gently, his lips barely brushing against Misaki's. "Not here, idiot!" hitting him roughly. But she didn't push him away.

And Usui noticed.


End file.
